


In a dream? In a dream.

by vermicious_knid



Category: Disney - All Media Types, Sleeping Beauty (1959)
Genre: F/M, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 02:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16031570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vermicious_knid/pseuds/vermicious_knid
Summary: genderbend AU of the story with some twists and turns. Based on a piece of fanart found here: http://dorodraws.tumblr.com/post/62519636925/genderbend-sleeping-beauty-yeah-ok-so-genderbent





	In a dream? In a dream.

The birth of a baby monarch was a source of delight and joy to everybody in the land, and so far the ceremony itself had gone by without a hitch.

King Hubert was also pleased, because this meant that his and king Stefans plan to unite their kingdoms could finally be realized through their children. He had brought his own daughter along to the ceremony, even though Philippa would rather have stayed home and played with her toy swords. Hubert sighed as he looked down at her beside him, dressed in her favorite red cape and playclothes. He was too lienent with her he knew, but then she was also a very stubborn child – refusing any dress he tried to make her wear.

 

He was also hesitant to let her anywhere near the baby, after what she’d told him in the carriage earlier. To say that Philippa was a sweet, docile princess was just wishful thinking at this point really.

 

As they approached the newly born prince lying in his crib, he held his breath. So much relied on this moment – even though they were still both children, every interaction between the young monarchs mattered.

 

Philippa approached with the token gift in hand, and looked down in the crib with a bored expression on her five year old face.

 

The baby seemed to be the opposite – both curious and impossibly sweet as it gurgled and stared back at her with dreamy blue eyes. Named Aube after the dawn, since he apparently filled his parents life with sunshine.

 

Philippa stared at him silently for a few minutes, until finally she looked up at her father – the look in her eyes not what he had hoped for.

 

”Is that it? Can’t I marry someone else?” she asked out loud, to which Hubert sputtered and turned tomato red while King Stefan roared with laughter on his throne. The queen was of course, less than pleased and turned another color entirely.

 

* * *

 

It was unfortunate of course, that the whole curse-thing had to happen. It meant that the two children would not get to spend any more time together as children, and would have no chance of really getting to know each other before their eventual wedding. At least, that was what Stefan and Hubert thought.

* * *

 

 

To raise a princess was one matter – to raise a prince was a wholly different one.

 

And to appoint three slightly cooky fairies to do it, far away from the rest of civilization, was simply unheard of. To their defense, they did whatever they could in order to prepare him of the future he yet knew he had – they acquired books on war, philosophy and strategy methods. They taught him to read and write. But whenever it came to duties in the home that the women did, it was hard to persuade him not to help – even though tradition said it was not a man’s place to do the dishes, or to mend clothes. Or to clean the house with a mop and bucket.

 

He even liked doing these things, and he did them well. And he was a much better seamstress than any of the fairies would like to admit.

 

And though he was somewhat interested in the books they gave him, he was more prone to daydreaming and singing to himself.

 

And instead of hunting down animals in the woods for them to eat, he preferred to call them his friends. It was more than a little odd, to be frank. But the fairies were kindhearted, and let him do these things as long as it made him happy.

 

* * *

 

Princess Philippa was a fiend with a musket and a horse. Hubert could barely keep track of where she went or when – and she rarely attended her ettiquette lessons at all! Still, she had grown up into a fine young woman, if a bit fiery and startling to the eye. She always wore her thick reddish-brown hair in a long braid down her back, that was often mussed and unkempt.

 

”Philippa please! You are almost of age to be married – can’t you slow down and stay home for a change? Knit a hat? ” Hubert pleaded to her by his castle gates.

 

Of course she took it as a joke and laughed, circling him astride her horse as she did.

 

”Oh father, you are too funny. I’ll be back in time for dinner!”

 

* * *

It just so happened that on that day, Aube was out in the forest picking berries for the faries. At least that was what his three godmothers had told him, but he knew they were up to something. Nevertheless, he was happy to be out of the house and to walk in nature’s splendor – to watch the trees shiver and smell the sweet roses that grew in bushes along the small path he usually took.

 

He was dressed in a simple peasants outfit, dark brown breeches and light brown sweater. His short, blonde hair was curly and his young face angular and long – his features pointed and almost too sharp. But his cheeks were rosy, and his eyes always kind and gentle, often with a faraway look – like he was thinking about a dream.

 

And today, that just happened to be the case.

 

”Oh squirrel, I had such a dream last night. Such a strange dream!” he exclaimed.

 

The squirrels tail twitched and it jumped up on his bony knee. Several other animals gathered around where he sat on a log, waiting to hear what he had to say.

 

”I was alone in a fog, but then there was this….woman, a princess. We walked together, and talked together – and then, when I was about to hug her...I woke up. What do you think it means?”

 

The owl in the group of animals looked at him thoughtfully, as if it was really trying to interpret what this dream could mean. The prince had never talked about other people before, let alone women. He had read countless tales of princesses saved by brave soldiers or princes, but that had never really made a mark on him. But this dream, _this princess_ was different.

 

The prince sighed dramatically and fell back against a tree.

 

”Oh, its too bad it was only a dream.”

 

* * *

 

Philippa sat in the water of a small lake, dressed in her clothes, drenched and livid with anger. Why? Because her stupid, foolhardy horse had thrown her off.

 

It was only somewhat pleasing that at least he seemed sorry about it.

 

But as soon as she had hung up her cape and hat to dry in a nearby tree – both items of clothing seemed to have disappeared! She had only turned around for a second, and when she looked back they were both gone.

 

_What the actual hell._

 

She picked up her musket and started to search the area. If there were any thieves nearby, they would soon be sorry.

* * *

 

She was somewhat stunned when, instead of finding a gaggle of sniggering thieves in the bushes, she found a man in a glade, dancing by himself with her cape and hat. No wait, he wasn’t completely alone.

 

There were also three rabbits, a squirrel and an owl.

 

The man made a spin in her direction, but his eyes were closed so he did not see her. And he was still singing. He had a beautiful voice, Philippa had never heard anything like it before in fact.

 

She had not seen anything like this before either.

 

At a loss for how to approach this man, she did what every other person would do. She coughed loudly to get his attention.

And just like that, the man’s fluid movements jerked to a halt and his eyes opened and looked at her with shock. He just stood there and stared at her for an uncomfortably long time, until Philippa decided that enough was enough. She walked out of the bush and came to stand right in front of him. He was only slightly taller than herself, with a lean build and only a hint of muscle showing through his clothing. She could take him in a fight if she had to.

 

”Okay, the fun is over – now give me my clothes please.” she said, holding her hand forward, palm open. But instead of giving her the clothes, he grasped her hand instead with his larger ones. The princess blinked, surprised.

 

”It’s you!” he exclaimed, wide blue eyes staring into her brown ones. It was a little alarming how close he was.

 

”Pardon?” she asked, trying to ease her hand from his as politely as possible.

 

”We’ve met before.” he said, like they really had – which she doubted. 

 

”Really? Where?” she asked, but he did not pick up on the sarcasm in her voice. He leaned even closer to her and whispered.

 

”In a dream. Don’t you remember?”

* * *

 

No. She did not remember.

 

She told him as much, but he would have none of it. Really, was this man that dense or that plain crazy? He calmed down a little after she had shown him her musket and the animals fled into the trees. They were now sitting against a log, overlooking King Stefan’s in the distance. Why she had agreed to even talk or spend time with him at all was a mystery in itself.

 

”And hypothetically, if we did meet in a dream of all places – what did we do? ” she asked. The man was excited to answer any question she had, including this one. But for some reason, he suddenly stopped himself.

 

”We talked, we danced and then we….”

 

Philippa narrowed her eyes at him, expecting the worst.

 

”We what?” she asked threateningly.

 

”We kissed.” he whispered shyly, not meeting her eyes.

 

”Oh.”

 

They were both silent then for a moment, and it wasn’t actually awkward at all.

 

”I’ve never kisssed anyone before.” he suddenly blurted out. She rolled her eyes at him.

 

”Now that I can believe.” she muttered. But he must have had ears like a bat, because he was very quick to respond with a similar question aimed at her.

 

”Have you?”

 

”…...No.”

* * *

 

She found out that his name was Briar Rose. Which was….an odd name. About as odd as the man himself. He had a strange way of thinking too.

 

But for whatever reason, she wanted to stay and talk to him. It wasn’t until sunset that she realized that she had to go home.

 

When it was time for them to part ways, Briar leaned over and plucked a pink rose from the ground. Instead of handing it to her, he gently tucked it behind her right ear. Men had given her flowers before, by the dozen in fact. But none of them had the same impact as this one.

 

As he placed the rose by her ear, his warm hand brushed her cheek. Her cheeks were reddening rapidly. She really had to leave.

 

”I’ll be back.” She found herself saying. This time, she didn’t mind that he was standing so close.

 

”When?” he asked, a bit breathless and too eager. But she liked it. His eyes had gone suddenly focused and bright, not faraway but here and now, with her.

 

”Tomorrow.”

* * *

 

 

But tomorrow didn’t happen the way any of them thought. In a strange twist of fate, the prince’s location was outed to the evil Maleficent and his identity discovered. And when Philippa arrived at his cottage, she was attacked by the very same.

 

It was an effort, a mix of the fairies magic and her own whirlwind of anger at her captor that managed to set her free, defeat the dragon and the many thorns that had swarmed the castle.

 

She had been told that Briar was indeed a prince –and in a deep sleep that could only be broken by a kiss. Philippa had listened to the fairies as they explained this very seriously. Then she had only one question to ask.

 

”Does it have to be a kiss?”

 

”YES!” they shouted in outraged union.

 

* * *

 

 

The first kiss, even though it worked, was a little awkward. He was asleep, after all.

 

He sat up straight like an arrow and looked at her, hair wild and mussed. She looked back at him, shrugging. Somewhere, the fairies sighed and groaned disapprovingly – not romantic at all, they muttered.

 

”Hey there.”

 

”Was I asleep?” he asked, sounding alarmed and slightly dazed, like he had just taken a nap and was now late for something very important. His eyes were barely open. He patted the covers around him as if he was looking for a watch, or a newspaper, or...something.

 

”Yes.” she said, watching him with fond amusement. His eyes opened then and he really saw her.

 

”Did you just kiss me?”

 

”Yes.”

 

”Can I kiss you back?” he asked, hunger in his eyes. His hands threaded through her hair, making her braid come undone – the hair was singed from the dragon’s fire in places, and her face was covered with soot and dirt. But he didn’t seem to care as his hands framed her face, fingers brushing gently over her lips. She was wild and temperamental, and fire could not burn her. She was rude and almost violent at times - but truth be told, that was what he liked about her. 

"Like in our dream, but for real?" she asked, a little breathless. 

Philippa could not say exactly how or when she fell in love with a crazy, singing vegetarian. But the fact remained that she had, pretty badly - you don't fight a dragon and an army of frog-like mutants otherwise. Maybe on an off-day or if you don't have anything better to do. 

"See? You do remember!" 

"Shut up."

When they finally did kiss (him awake this time) it lasted for longer than a couple of seconds. The kiss turned into several, and the rest of the castle remained asleep until they both emerged a few hours later. 

 

* * *

 

They are a funny pair, the new prince and the princess. 

She's a force to be reckoned with, and he is (or so many suspect) not really sound of mind. 

But you know what? Nobody wants to pick a fight with an aggressive queen and her singing husband. 

 


End file.
